


Victory

by Sonnista



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys Kissing, Citronshipping, Control, Dominance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Happy birthday Malik, Healing, Loss of Control, Love Confessions, M/M, Mix of Canon/Headcanon/Post-Canon, Oral Sex, Partners in Crime, Regret, Riding, Rituals, Smut, Thiefshipping, Victory, there is also fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonnista/pseuds/Sonnista
Summary: They can't live with each other, but they can't live without each other either. And somewhere between hate and love, they danced on the precipice, waiting for the fall.Thiefshipping/Citronshipping
Relationships: Citronshipping - Relationship, Thief King Bakura/Marik Ishtar, Thiefshipping - Relationship, Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Since today is Malik's birthday, I thought I could actually upload this fic right away!
> 
> What it is, I don't know either, but it felt good to write it. 
> 
> Malik deserves some happiness, besides all the bullshit he has gone through.
> 
> Enjoy reading ;)

**Bakura's looks caught his attention after a few days.**

Malik couldn't help it, each time it sent a shiver down his spine.

When they developed their tactics, when they argued with each other, when they planned their vengeance together.

_It always did._

This day wasn't different. They argued as they did every day.

Malik was trembling with rage. His eyes narrowed furiously as Bakura slammed his fist on the table opposite him.

It was pointless. Neither of them would give up this game of dominance first. Everything was the same as always.

Until Bakura suddenly leaned forward over the table and gripped the sides of Malik's face with both hands.

Their first kiss had been rough; completely devoid of any tender feelings.

And then he can only remember heavy breathing, moans and breathless whispers. Of rough skin, cool fabric and sweat. And of sweet lips, strong hands and arousing touches.

It was a feeling of complete perfection - for his body. But Malik's soul remained untouched.

They never talked about what they did to each other after nightfall. But they both knew they would do it again. 

**They always did it after an argument.**

Then both were in the perfect mood for this mutually submissive act.

They dominated each other.

Those were the moments when Malik was also mentally in a state closest to satisfaction.

When Malik turned Bakura on his stomach and fucked him with hard thrusts from behind. When Malik rode Bakura to climax, moaning as he threw his head back. When Bakura squeezed Malik's air channels and cum deep inside him. When Malik roughly grabbed his white bangs while Bakura sucked him off.

Or the other way around.

_And without realizing it, they were getting closer to each other._

They both felt empty afterwards, but they didn't want it to stop.

**They couldn't help it.**

Bakura said that Malik was nothing more than an inexperienced and controlling brat.

Malik said that Bakura was nothing more than an impulsive and stubborn spirit.

_How stupid they were._

Malik had never learned to feel anything but anger, hatred and contempt after his initiation. The pain and nightmares tormented him until this day and continued to do so.

His life consisted only of preserving lost memories of a nameless pharaoh. A fate he never could escape. And he hated it.

The first time he felt something different, it was doubly hard for him; he has no idea what he felt - he only knew that it choked his heart.

**Malik was the first to break the silence.**

They hadn't spoken to each other for several days - all their plans had failed. The atmosphere between them was tense.

Malik couldn't take it anymore.

Bakura was rearranging his deck when Malik hugged him from behind and put his head on Bakura's shoulder.

He got no reaction.

Malik felt the familiar pain rise up inside him again, but he pulled himself together, swallowing it down - along with everything else that was never going to find its way up.

Why was he still doing this to himself?

He just found himself ridiculous and pathetic.

_Because he couldn't help it and was beginning to lose control. And not just over the situation._

His arms wrapped tighter around Bakura.

"What are you doing?" asked Bakura. His voice was unusually quiet.

Malik didn't answer him.

**The time came when they lost themselves in their ignorance.**

Their arguments became more and more intense and exhausting, their nights more and more unrestrained and bonding.

It was clear to both of them that they were about to lose each other.

Malik knew he had to separate from Bakura if he ever wanted to feel normal again - but the thought alone hurt more than Bakura's words ever could.

_He was already lost._

It had to be said in Malik's - no, in both their defenses - that they were children. Children with too much power.

Children who lost their childhood far too early.

They thought they knew what the other was like, yet they didn't even know themselves.

Malik had always been so proud of his power and superiority, while Bakura was obsessed with his vengeance - but what was left when layer after layer was peeled away?

While Malik began to bow to his fate, Bakura developed unexpected feelings.

Their ways parted when Malik lost control. They never had a chance to figure it out together.

**At some point he cried, for all the lost moments.**

Malik went back to Egypt.

For the first few months, Malik told himself that he regretted becoming partners with Bakura. That he would not miss Bakura. Not even a little bit.

Actually, it was quite pleasant without Bakura. Nobody nagged him, nobody argued with him, nobody...

Nobody spokes to him. Nobody. His siblings tried, but Malik rejected them. He didn't want to talk at all.

_It was easier to believe the lie than to face the truth._

And time went by while he kept telling himself that.

He put on a mask to hide his true self. He couldn't and wouldn't admit his weakness to himself.

Everything was fine. Even if it wasn't.

**He thought he wouldn't ever see Bakura again.**

One night Malik woke up, just like so many other nights before. But this time he wasn't alone in his room.

Malik thought he was dreaming until Bakura knelt over him and kissed him passionately.

Only their moans could be heard as they gave themselves to each other. They kissed each other, touched each other, as if they were only meant for each other.

As they lay panting next to each other, Malik tried to persuade Bakura to give up his vengeance.

_He knew that if he failed to do so, he would lose Bakura._

But the next morning, Bakura was gone.

A few hours later, the nameless Pharaoh and his friends stood beside him.

Malik had returned to the place he wanted to forget. 

He hoped so much that Bakura would listen to him. But he didn't.

Bakura lost his last game against the Pharaoh. His vengeance failed. The shadows swallowed his soul.

And again, their ways parted before they had a chance together.

**His world fell apart until a spark ignited.**

More months passed. Malik couldn't even remember what he had done. Not the details. Nothing, in fact.

He tried to block out all memories.

Like the one time he thought he saw those dark eyes flash in the darkness, and he had jumped up and chased after them until he couldn't run anymore.

Or the many times Malik had woken up in the middle of the night, Bakura's scent in his nose.

Where did the scent come from? Malik didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to think anymore. He couldn't, because every clear thought slipped through his fingers like rain through a storm. 

_But at some point he refused to accept his fate._

He was trying to forget his sins, which he never thought of as such in himself. And no matter how much he told himself he knew better.

Malik didn't regret any of the things he had done. 

But his heart grew heavy when he thought of Bakura. 

One night, he finally realized how he really felt about Bakura, even though he had denied it until now.

And then he made his decision.

**It cost him blood, sweat and tears.**

Four years.

It took Malik four years to come across a long-forgotten ritual in a foreign inscription. 

Barely audible, Malik whispered the ancient words in Latin.

His eyes were closed, and he was on his knees. He held a silver knife in his hand. Countless bright scars covered the tanned skin on his forearm. But he didn't care about these scars. Not these.

He knew it had to work this time. It just had to.

And again, blood dripped from Malik's arm.

Malik felt exhausted, his muscles trembling. The loss of blood tugged at him.

The shadows danced around him until they began to form and suddenly the candles around him went out.

Malik fell silent.

A man in a crimson coat lay on the ground in front of him.

Although Bakura's appearance was different, Malik knew it was him. There wasn't any doubt about it.

Bakura looked at him from half-closed eyes, a striking scar on his face. There was the same look in his eyes as there had been years ago.

The feelings of that time came over Malik like a storm.

His heartbeat accelerated as Bakura reached out and touched his bleeding arm with his fingertips. With his other hand, Bakura touched his face and when he felt the scar, he froze. His eyes widened.

_"Malik ... what did you do?"_

Malik didn't answer, and it wouldn't be necessary anymore. Instantly, he leaned forward. His arms wrapped around Bakura's neck, and he locked their lips in the passionate and real kiss he had been waiting for all these years.

And Bakura wrapped his arms around Malik's waist, held him tightly and returned the kiss.

A few seconds later, Malik lost his consciousness.

**It feels like a victory, even if their vengeance failed.**

Two years have passed since that day.

The first rays of sunlight bathe the room in a dim light.

Malik opens his eyes, a tired smile on his lips. 

He runs his hand through his golden hair and looks at Bakura, who is lying in bed next to him. Malik can see Bakura's chest slowly moving up and down. The blanket is crumpled on the floor. Both of them are naked. 

Bakura's scars captivate him. They are so different from his own. Bakura has so many scars, so many memories carved into his body forever. Years immortalized on his skin, like the paths on a map. Malik loves to trace those paths with his fingers, and he loves it when Bakura trembles slightly as he does so.

Sometimes Malik tries to imagine what battles the scars might have come from, at which points in Bakura's life he came to which scar.

He never makes it, but he doesn't ask either. He doesn't want to tear the scars open again. And he knows that Bakura really enjoys this attention, this care. That he needs it. That he needs him.

Just as Malik needs Bakura.

Now Malik would follow him wherever Bakura leads him. Malik trusts him with his life. He would never let him go. Never again.

He lets Bakura take everything he wants to take, because Malik has a lot to give and Bakura deserves everything he can get.

"I can tell when you're staring at me, Malik," Bakura whispers. He looks at Malik with half-lidded eyes and yawns. 

Malik chuckles and sits down on his lap. He carefully brushes his thumb over the scar below Bakura's eye. "I know..."

He leans over and kisses Bakura softly on his lips.

Bakura sighs contentedly into the kiss and pulls him close. His arms wrap around Malik's waist and hold him tight.

Malik smiles as he leans back a little and Bakura growls in dissatisfaction. 

He stays close to Bakura's lips, knowing he never wanted to be anywhere else ever again.

_"I love you."_


End file.
